On Friday I traveled up to The New York Botanical Garden to attend the graduation of The School of Professional Horticulture. The school is a two-year intensive program that exposes a small group of selected students to every aspect of top-notch horticulture. You take a ton of classes, from organic chemistry to History and Theory of Landscape Design, you work hard every day alongside some of the best in public horticulture, and you attempt to house and sustain yourself while you juggle these 8-16 hour days solid for two years. I have a good friend who likes to scoff at how exclusive and elitist the school comes across. That's fine, she's entitled to her opinion. Just as much as I'm entitled to know the truth. The truth is that it is a lot to juggle, and not everyone makes it through, but those that do make it to another level, and they are professional horticulturists. I graduated just a year ago and I am damn proud to be in the club. These people are not only my friends but they are the people who I trust the most to make this a better and healthier world for all.
The tagline of the school is "where practice and theory meet". That was the line that Bill Logan chose to speak to as he began his keynote address in front of the intimate group of students, family, teachers, Garden staff, friends, and alumni. Bill Logan is an arborist and great mentor of mine who came to trees via literature, poetry, and garden writing. I hope some day to be as eloquent as Bill, with his commentary so accurate and so vivid with tangible anecdotes and factoids. Bill reminded us how our society likes to separate the "heads" and the "hands".
There are head people, those that formalize ideas and direct the show, often without rolling up their sleeves. And then there are the hand people, those that apply their hands and make a reality of the heads' design. And why is that the case? Most of us were there on Friday because we care about both of those processes equally. It was such a treat to have someone as articulate remind us of that a thought that might be simple but certainly goes unrecognized. As horticulturists I think that our lives are the best and yet so challenging because we see that it is only by being both a head and a pair of hands that we are complete. To formulate and think through is powerful, but understand my doing and see the plants that resulted from the seeds you've sown, well, that takes you to another level.
With all this its hard at times to differentiate between what we do to make ourselves happy and what we do to make society happy. We climb the ladder, excel to the managerial role, and move on from where we were as a laborious pair of hands. But sometimes I wonder why. I think, "Wouldn't it just be great to be a regular gardener again". I know gardeners who have been in similar positions for many years and they seem perfectly content with their lives. Then I see others who have climbed that ladder very quickly and their desk is far from the gardens they started in, or the first trees they climbed. I wonder where I fit in. I have a lot to offer, to plant, to grow, to educate, to spread the mission of making this a greener place. But I don't want to become to separated from my hands, from the earth, from knowing intimately that connection between the two.
I put on my dress pants and nice shoes. Soon I'll hit the pavement and the elevator and the office. I will educate and positively affect many people today with the lessons I've created. I will remind myself that this higher position means I can reach out and educate more people than if I was just caring for my own small gardens. But, damn, the 13th floor is sometimes just too far away from the dirt far below.
As an alum of the School of Professional Horticulture I was invited up to the New York Botanical Garden on Saturday to enjoy a forest symposium by leading scientists and policy makers. From a global scale to a local scale four speakers addressed the challenges we face as stewards of the land going forward in this time of climate change and then we all went out and enjoyed the 50-acre old growth forest that NYBG is known for. Reuniting with friends and mentors it was such a treat to give our bodies a day off while exercising our minds and getting re-inspired to continue plugging away at the good work we do. I have specific tree shots and info to share but for now here are some of the more general shots I took that gorgeous afternoon. (as always click to enlarge images)
probably a tulip tree (Liriodendron tulipifera)
What most people don't realize is that the stunning colors we see in fall are actually there in the leaves most of the growing season, they are just hidden by the chlorophyll plants produce in order to photosynthesize.
As trees and shrubs begin to go dormant in the fall they produce less chlorophyll, the green pigment in their leaves, because they have to begin shutting down and storing up water and sugars so that they can leaf-out next spring. With less chlorophyll present we get a glimpse of the other pigments in the leaves that are created throughout the growing season. Xanthophylls and Carotenoids are responsible for the stunning yellows and oranges and actually exist in the leaves most of the warmer months. The red and purple pigments come from Anthocyanins which the leaves manufacture mid- to late-summer to deal with the bright summer sun, almost like a plant's secret SPF. In fall we get lucky that the trees and shrubs take a little time to shut down and prepare for winter dormancy giving us this great show.
New exceptionally designed pathways now weave throughout the Thain Family Forest allowing arborists and novices alike the chance to experience this wonderful woodland with all it's age and lessons on the interconnectedness of life. Such a treat to breath easy, dwarfed by the landscape, and take it all in.
